


The Limo Story

by LadyGisborne



Category: The Nanny
Genre: Cowgirl Position, F/M, Love Confessions, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-14 00:59:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4544064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyGisborne/pseuds/LadyGisborne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking place between 'Fran's gotta have it' and 'The morning after' Max and Fran are in the Limo coming home from the Hospital. Both are feeling emotional after Niles' heart attack and residual arousal from London. They finally give in to their urges and the release of 4+ years of sexual tension and flirting come to a head in a passionate and sensual way. Enjoy! Even if you are not a Nanny fan its not a bad little piece of fluff</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Limo Story

Fran couldn’t believe it. Niles, her best friend and ally, was in the hospital. Sure the doctors had said he was going to be alright but she was still shaken. It couldn’t be the same Niles who had rollerbladed his way through the kitchen only a few days earlier. No, that Niles had been spry and healthy. He had been quick to make his usual cut at Ms. Babcock topped with some snide remarks about the privileged and emotionally stunted man sitting next to her. 

It all felt so surreal. It couldn't have been only a few hours ago that her and Mr. Sheffield had been together in London. 

That was another thing. London had been a disaster. It had started out so well. She had shown up in what she thought was a very sexy outfit. One she had picked out especially for a royal seduction. And red really was one of her better colours. She had thought it was working. They had been strolling arm and arm along the Serpentine in Hyde Park, they had shared some laughs as they watched the people passing by the cafe in Coven Garden and the moment in the afternoon sun, sitting on the bench cuddled up next of Max, simply talking and being with each other, warm in his arms, Fran had felt like she was safe and cherished. It was all going so well. That was until the thing happened. The same thing that happened every time the two of them got even a little bit close to turning up the heat in their relationship. 

She had truly believed she had broken through his barriers this time but yet again once they approached the line, the one separating them from friendship and real romantic intimacy, Max had pulled back. 

She couldn’t understand. All day, hell all year, he had been sending mixed messages. She didn't understand him. Sure she could feel his desire, the sexual tension between them. There was no denying it. Since the moment she came down his stairs in that red sequinned dress almost four and a half years ago she had known there was something more between them. His eyes constantly told her that he desired her but his actions and especially his words told her a different story. 

But whenever he kissed her she felt it in her bones. She felt it everywhere if she were telling the truth. His kisses affected her like no one else’s could. Perhaps thats why none of her other relationships ever worked. They didn't have that same spark, that same knee weakening, toe curling, make you shiver-all-over kind of passion. She had only ever felt that with one man and he was sitting beside her as the limo drove on through the streets of New York. 

It was quiet as the limo maneuvered through the lights and horns of the cabs and fellow drivers of the city. It was comforting to be back, though Fran would never have wished for these circumstances. She was still so worried about Niles. She could sense that the butler’s close call had affected not only herself but Maxwell as well. 

He had been quiet since the hospital. Fran flushed when she remembered. There had been a close call between her and Mr. Sheffield and still shivered both from embarrassment and in pleasant aftershock of the pleasure of being so thoroughly ravaged by Mr. Sheffield in Niles’ hospital room.

She had no idea what had come over the pair of them. It was strange what a close call with death did to people. All the petty arguments and zany mishaps seemed insignificant when someone you cared about was facing a true crisis. 

As hard as this had all been for Fran she could only guess at how Mr. Sheffield was feeling. Though he was gruff with Niles and constantly berating him for his lack of professionalism Fran knew that Max truly valued Niles as butler, as a friend and as a member of their family. Yes, thats what they were, a family. Though she didn’t have a ring on her finger, much to her mother’s dismay, this was her family. The kids, Niles, Max and even Miss Babcock. In the last four years she had grown so close to them all and so accustomed to their lives together she was frightened to think about what might happen to them all if something was to threaten their life together. 

She was sure the Max had felt the same way. She could see it in his eyes when they were sitting on the bed as Niles slept. Niles was his friend and Max was now facing the reality that his friend and his family was being threatened with something beyond his control. 

She had tried to comfort him, to seek comfort in him. They had always been there for each other through good times and bad. That was one of the things she loved about Max, he was always there for her when she needed someone. When she felt alone and undesirable after a terrible breakup he was there, when she was in Bermuda during a hurricane he had tried to come after her to ensure she was safe, and when she had injured her ankle he had insisted on carrying her to and from her room. In his arms she felt safe. 

Safety and desire was what she had felt in the room tonight as they had finally given into their urges and embraced. She had been so overwhelmed that she had fallen right into his grasp. His mouth was on hers, all the pent up passion from London and a desperation of seeing his best friend in the hospital poured out from him and Fran took it. She took his need into her and returned her own. 

God knows what would have happened if Miss Babcock hadn’t pulled back the curtain in search of a pillow for Niles. 

So now here they were on their way home. It was late and they were both shaken by the events of the last few days. They were hardly touching yet sitting beside him along the back of the limo Fran could sense the unresolved sensual energy still surging between them. Fran looked over to him now. She could see he was tense. He jaw was firmly set and his eyes were staring, unfocused into the blackness at the front of the limo. 

Fran followed his gaze and transfixed her own on the small square reflection of a light in the shiny black lacquer of the divider that separated the driver from the back. Her breathing grew steady yet shallow. She tried to take in deeper breaths but found it was too difficult. Her body was displaying the signs of the all of emotions and feeling that had been building up since before they departed for London. Her breath caught in her throat as she thought back to the kisses they had shared, of his hands on her as they had burst into their room, locked in each others arms, driven by passion, by need of the other. She had been ready. Well she had been ready for four years, but she had been truly ready to share herself with him and her body resented the lack of touch. 

Her senses became hyper aware and she could hear Mr. Sheffield as he breathed in and out. He seemed far from calm. She could feel his quick intake and dramatic sighs with each breath he took. She could feel each quiver of his chest as it rose and fell. Though they were not touching she could feel his every movement in the air. 

His muscles were tight, as if he were restraining them, pulling them in and tethering them together. She wanted to look at him, to look into his eyes to try to see what was wrong, but for some reason she couldn’t. The most she could do was look over at his leg. It was dark but she could have sworn it was shaking. There was something in the air. A tension humming, something connecting them, pulling her towards him. 

Finally she felt something happen. A slight movement. Mr. Sheffield moved his hand from its place on the seat over so that his small finger brushed and linked with hers. It was such an insignificant gesture but its effect was immense. It was as if the trance that was holding them apart was suddenly broken. She felt the contact of his skin ripple over her hand, up her arm and through her body hitting her right in the pit of her stomach. 

Something had snapped and everything had shifted yet nothing had changed except for his one finger touching hers.

But that was all it took, all she needed to know to understand. He needed her. 

She wasn't sure if she had the courage to face him but four years of waiting, wanting, and wishing had built up so that she was twisted so tightly that she felt as if she were going to snap and break if something weren't done about it. She had thought that London would hold the answers, and she was partially right, it had confirmed for her that he was the one. She had known she loved him but in London, when it had just ben the two of them, one on one, together as adults not just as the Nanny and the Producer, they had proved that they belonged together, that there was truly a spark between them and that the passion between them was real. It had crushed her when he had pulled away. How could he deny what was staring him right in the face?

But if she wanted to be together, to truly be with him than she had to be brave, to put herself out there. She had to open her heart. 

She turned her head to look at him directly, to take in everything his face was saying, but as soon as she looked into his face she was caught by his eyes. There, right in front of her, was raw unadulterated passion. There was no hiding, no simpering or dancing around it. Here he was, laying it all out there and it overwhelmed her. 

She couldn’t think straight. She asked “Mister…” But before she could finish his name he cut her off. 

“Fran.” Her name, not Miss Fine, Fran, said in so breathy a sigh that it sent shivers all through her. She was about to respond when his lips suddenly found hers. 

In an instant everything fell away. She was breathless and weightless, she was dreaming yet pleasantly aware. All she could feel were her lips, the gentle pressure on her lips and the soft sturdiness of his own, the wonderfully stinging waves of pleasure that reverberated through her skin all focused from his mouth. Just when she felt she couldn’t stand it any more he pulled away and began to kiss the corner of her mouth.

“Oh, M..” He kissed the opposite corner, “Max.” She barely took a breath before being taken once again by pleasure. 

—

The sound of his name on her lips sent a shock of desire straight to his cock. It was like a bolt of lightening. She was so wonderfully seductive. Sitting next to her in the limo had been excruciating. Four years of sexual frustration had all come to a head in London. He had nearly lost control. After such a wonderful day with her, just the two of them, he had been weakened by her charm and had quickly found himself in her arms at the door of their hotel room. The lure of a plush soft bed just behind the wooden barrier was so enticing that he had hurriedly ripped out his key, thrown them through the threshold and lifted her on the bed. It was not until she had called for him that he came back to himself. 

“Mr. Sheffield.” She had said. Thats who he was, he was her Mr. Sheffield, broadway producer and her employer, a widower and father. He had to be responsible. He was responsible not only for her but for the entire family. They all relied on him. 

Four years ago he could never have imagined what would become of his family. For that was what she had made them, a true family. Ever since Sarah had died Max had felt himself slowly slip away from being himself and fall ever more fully into the role of ‘father’ or ‘boss.’ And a role it was. He had lived without true feeling or passion. He had been cold and distant. He had separated himself from emotions in favour of strength dependability. Thats what his children had needed after their mother had died. 

He hadn’t realized what it had taken away from his relationships. He was not close with his children, nor did he have any true friendships in his life. It wasn't until the crazy, sexy, wonderful Miss Fine had shown up at their door step with wonderfully loud hair, clothing and voice that had he realized what was missing from his life. She was technicolour in his world of grey. She had reacquainted him with emotions, feelings and most of all passion. 

The passion she had each and every day was inspiring. She had quickly won over the children, Niles and eventually himself. She had changed him, changed them all. They were a family now, an unconventional and ridiculous family, but a family non the less and it had become tremendously important to him. 

He loved her. He loved what she had brought to his life and he loved what she brought out in him. He had loved her from early on but it had taken a long time for him to realize that he was in love with her. 

The realization had scared him half to death. The last time he had felt such love was with Sarah and losing her had devastated him and his children. 

They were happy now, he was happy now, and it was all because of Fran. She was truly magnificent. She was beautiful and amazing and sexy as hell. He had wanted her from the first day he saw her. She was gorgeous and his need for her had become a constant hum in his life. But he had refused to give in. He needed her for his children far more than he needed her in his bed. But it had not been easy. There were many times when he had gone to bed alone thinking of her only to be disappointed when he awoke in the morning without her there. 

He had also had dark, passionate fantasies about her, about her luscious body beneath his, calling his name. But he had denied them all. He knew that he had not been ready to remarry and he couldn't cheapen any relationship between them. He couldn’t do that to her or to his family. So he had denied it, denied his feelings, and even took it back when he had finally blurted them out in a moment of weakness. 

Truth be told he was afraid. She was so much, she was sexy and creative and passionate and sublime and he was sure that if they were truly together that he would disappoint her. If it didn't work out, if they broke up, his family couldn't handle it. So he had waited. Watched her go on countless dates while he sat at home pining and hoping that each one ended as disastrously as the last. 

It wasn’t until London and Niles’ heart attack that he realized that he was being ridiculous. Why should he deny his feelings, why should he hold them back, bottled up without release in fear of the bad things that may happen instead of giving into them and showing Fran how much she meant to him. Niles had shown him that things could not always remain the same and that sometimes we don't get the chances we thought we would. 

She was here, right in front of him and he couldn't deny it any longer. He wanted her desperately and if she would let him he would show her all the passion and desire that had been building for the last four years. 

Sitting beside her, feeling her near him tonight, it was more than he could bare. Max felt as if his skin was burning, burning from wanting the woman right in front of him. He needed her, needed to consume her. She was about to say his name but he needed to show her, show how he had changed, that he was ready. 

He stopped thinking and just let his passion guide him. He delved into her lips and felt a release spread through his skin as if a cool wave crashed over him soothing his burning and carrying him further into the safe and warm shores of her body. She tasted so sweet. Her lips contained the elixir of desire and he craved it. 

He took his hands and ran them up into her hair. Her beautiful black curls fell into his palms their silken texture soothing and luxurious. He loved the contrast of hard and soft between them and pulled her head back so he could take her mouth more deeply. 

Quickly he braced his arm behind her and eased them down across the bench of the leather seat. 

“Fran, I want you.” 

—

She pulled back and gently touched his face with her palms. Fran looked into his eyes and searched it for reluctance, for hesitancy and for sincerity. She had been fooled before. He often said he wanted her with his body yet denied it with his words. She wanted to be sure this wasn't the same situation reversed. Although she could feel part of his sincerity as it rested against her hip. His arousal turned her on. It was heady and invigorating to know she could inspire such lust. 

“Max,” She hesitated a moment as he nibbled along her neck driving her to distraction. She didn't want to ask him, but she had been fooled so many times before, “Are you sure? Ah, You really want to do this?” 

He looked at her and smiled, a rakish smile and that she had only seen from him in her fantasies, she smiled as she gave him three short kisses. 

He looked up and she saw him look out the windows. 

“Fran, we have waited so long, I do not want it to happen in the back of a limousine.” His lips returned to hers, his hands roaming up and down her sides, hips and legs. 

“Luckily we are nearly home.” His tongue darted in and out of her mouth kneading her own in mocking imitation of a more intimate gesture. 

“But,” Fran broke from the kiss only to be taken in to another, “what about…”

“We have the house to ourselves. The kids are staying with your mother,” He kissed her again, “She thought…we might be at the hospital late into the night so offered to take them.” 

Fran threw her arms around his neck and gave into the kiss. They were truly going to be alone, together, in the house that she had come to love as her own with a man she loved as her own. Her breath caught again with emotion. She hardly noticed as the Limo slowed and swerved slightly to the right. 

Her hands were left searching as Max pulled back. He smiled a sweetly promising smile, sat up and pulled her along with him. 

“Common, we’re home.” 

He exited the limo and took her hand helped her from the car. He muttered something to the driver as he walked away with her, hand in hers, pulling her behind him as he headed towards the door. 

He fiddled momentarily trying to find the keys in his jacket pocket but he swiftly inserted them into the lock and opened the outer door. Before he could get to the next one Max pulled Fran up against him. Still grasping his keys with one hand and holding her hand with the other clasped in-between them. He kissed her once more with a giddy an eagerness that reminded Fran of the kisses of her youth. Passions were high, hormones were going crazy, each of them anxious for what would come next. 

But Max surprised her when he roughly grasped her by the bottom and pushed her against the wright iron gate on the door. The patterned metal pressed firmly against her body as Maxwell ground his hips into her and breathed a delicious kiss on her lips. Her hands eagerly made a journey up his chest, neck and head. Her fingers laced with one another behind his neck and held on as her knees went weak. 

She smiled into his lips at this change in temperament. She was overwhelmed by this side of him. This passion was something that she had always believed was simmering beneath his cool surface and she was thrilled that he was finally letting it out, with her, tonight. 

He broke away and smiled and Fran couldn't help but giggle at the dopey eager expression on his face. They stayed there like that, smiling like idiots, for a moment before Max remembered himself and opened the door. 

Inside the house Max took her hand once again and lead her towards the stairs. He glanced at them, then at her and seemed to make up his mind about something. In an instant Fran saw her feet come up as Max lifted her into his arms and proceeded to carry her up the stairs. A thrill ran through her at the display of such masculine strength. 

Keen to express her desires Fran nibbled at Max’s ear as they bounded up the steps and down the hall. She thought for a moment that he might take her into her room but she smiled and avidly lavished her attention on him as she realized that he was taking her to his own room. 

This truly was the beginning. He wasn’t separating his lust for her from his personal domain but was bringing her into it. He was taking her into his private space and private life. 

Mirroring his actions in London Max swiftly threw open the door and burst through, Fran in hand. 

—

Max couldn’t believe his eyes. He had pictured taking Miss Fine into his room before. He had even fantasized about undressing her and taking her swiftly on his bed but that had all been wishful thinking, an illusion. Right now, here, she was real. She was soft and warm in his arms and her slightest movement, not to mention the delicious actions of her teeth and tongue on his earlobe as they bounded up the stairs, was driving him mad. 

He put her down just at the foot of his bed. The curtains had not been drawn since the morning and the moonlight was filtering through creating an ethereal glow around the fizzed edges of Fran’s hair. She looked like an angel and a tempting seductress all rolled into one and the intensity of the moment hit him. He wanted her, drawn to her by lust, but he also loved her. It had been so long since he had experienced either feeling and he was bit unsure how to marry the two driving forces that urged him to throw her down on the bed and ravage her and the other that encouraged him to make love to her. 

“Miss Fine.” 

“Max.” She smiled at him and gave him a sweet kiss. When she pulled back he could see the turmoil of emotion she was experiencing reflecting right back at him and he chuckled lightly. 

“I think we have moved passed the Miss Fine’s and Mr. Sheffield’s don’t you? Unless your into that? I am open to roll play.” Fran said teasingly. 

He knew she was jesting but suddenly he felt the urge to be sincere. 

“No Miss—No, tonight I want you, Fran, in my bed.” 

She smiled so sweetly at him. He was lost. He was unsure how he had lasted so long without giving into her but he knew that he no longer wished to fight. He kissed her again and her body fell into his. They fit so wonderfully together, her long, lithe body pushed against his, heating him from shoulder to shin. She moaned into the kiss and swerved her hips and he was lost. He would stop thinking and let instinct take over. 

He grabbed her by the arms and crushed her against him, wanting, needing to be closer to her. Yet he was not satisfied, there were too many layers between them. 

His hands deftly moved to the buttons of her jacket. It needed to come off, all of her clothes did, he needed her bared and naked. He needed to see, to feel her skin. He made quick work of the red jacket and moved next towards her skirt. God he had always loved her short skirts, accentuating her delicious round bottom and her smooth narrow waist. He had sometimes caught a glimpse or two or some lacy lingerie beneath her skirts as she sat on his desk. It had teased and excited him then and it drove him onward now. This time he would wouldn't hold back and he would discover what she wore beneath her skirts and more. 

He continued his assault on two fronts. His hand avidly pulled at and unbuttoned her clothing while his mouth sought to disarm her with passionate warmth. Fran didn't fight his efforts and instead seemed to be spurred by them. 

Quickly he turned her around so that she faced away from him. He bent his head and nibbled at her recent bared shoulder. His mouth trailed down her neck and across her beautiful porcelain skin. He felt a surge of male satisfaction as Fran shivered in his arms. 

One hand moved over her, running along her shoulder, her clavicle and over her left breast. He kneaded and squeezed it gently. Her chest rose to meet his caress.  
Without lifting his lips from her he took his right hand and dragged one finger along her skin moving from her shoulder to neck and torturously slow down the line of her spine to the small of her back. 

Fran let out a whimper and he smiled into her wet skin. It was so easy with her, his mind took him on a path of seduction and that he was unaware he was capable of but he was throughly enjoying it, and evidently Fran was too.  
His errant finger and thumb clasped the top of the zipper on her tight red skirt and again, ever so slowly, he pulled it down. The sound of the zipper sliding was a part of the erotic symphony in the room. It mingled with the sounds of sighs, laboured breath and rapid heartbeats.

Once the zipper was drawn all the way down he tugged slightly and the skirt moved down her hips. Bringing down his other hand he pushed the red garment off of her hips and followed it down to the floor. 

Max bent and faced the back of Fran’s stocking clad legs. He got a wicked idea and leaned in close so that his lips hovered just over her skin. He knew she could feel his breath on her skin and unhurriedly took his hand and ran it up her leg as he rose. He stopped only to run his flatted hand over the perky cheek of her backside. 

Max stood back a moment as he took in Fran’s form. She stood before him in only her bra, thigh high tights, lace underwear and incredibly sexy heels. He felt a twitch in his cock as his eyes looked her up and down. God she was gorgeous. He couldn’t believe that she was here, with him. 

Just as he contemplated his next moved she turned around with a determined look on her face. 

“What a tease you are,” Fran goaded and leaned in to within a breath of his lips, “but now its my turn, Mr. Shhheffield.” She drew out the syllables of his name on her tongue and inched her hands over his abdomen and up to his chest. Her hands moved outwards catching the lapels of his jacket and slowly pushed it off his shoulders. 

He was enchanted by the clear determination on Fran’s face and by the incredible sensation of her hands dextrously removing his clothes. She tugged roughly at his tie and unceremoniously tore it open and threw it on the ground behind him. She teasingly barred her teeth at him like an animal and he leaned his forehead towards hers and let out a small growl. He was incredibly turned on by her rough handling of him and she didn't stop there.  
She attempted to undo the buttons at the neck of his shirt and quickly became frustrated when the effort progressed slower than desired. So she grabbed at the two sides of the shirt and with one swift motion ripped open his shirt sending small white buttons flying. 

The effort left both Fran and Max panting. Max, keen to help, shoved down the sleeves of his shirt and tossed it to the floor to join her skirt. He kicked off his shoes and socks but when he moved to pull off his belt but was stopped by Fran’s hands. 

“Tsk, tsk, Max, that is not how this works. You did me, now I get to do you. Tit. For. Tat. Mister.” 

Max raised his eyebrow in question but his face rapidly changed to surprised pleasure when her hands cupped his buttocks gruffly. She pulled him close and wiggled her chest and hips along his body. She breathed heavy and sighed in his ear. Her mouth landed on his neck and he felt her suckle at his skin. Her tongue flicked little circles within the boarders of her lips and his skin broke into gooseflesh.  
She repeated this action on his right pectoral and again on his left, then she moved further down stopping at each abdominal muscle before reaching the patch of skin just above the buckle of his pants. She knelt before him and her eyes flicked back up to meet his. She licked and teased him, hands still planted on his backside pulling him close. She nipped and nibbled and then breathed soft and hard against his damp skin. He saw the seam of his pants twitch in reaction to her ministrations.  
He was rock hard and anxious to have them both disrobed and on the bed so he could release his pent up passion and frustration. 

Finally Fran’s hand came to his belt and she teasingly pulled at the strap and jerked it slowly past the first belt loop, then the second before finally pulling it back and releasing the clasp. With one swift tug she pulled it free from his pants and held it in her hand for a moment. She glanced at the belt then at him and back to the belt. 

“Maybe another time.” She said brow raised in jovial sensuality. 

The thought of using the belt did have some appeal but Max was far too restless to be inside Fran to think about props and roll play. As she said, another time perhaps. Besides tonight all he wanted to focus on was the goddess before him. 

He reached down and lay a finger under her chin and pulled her back up to him. His lips had missed her and he needed to kiss her once again to make sure she tasted the same as before. 

His lips met hers and in an instant he felt ravenous. He took her mouth without sympathy or gentleness. He seized her and devoured her wonderful essence. Crushed against him, lips locked, she felt like heaven. 

Breathless and insatiable Max pulled away and grabbed Frans hips and walked her backwards until her knees hit the bed. He leaned his body over her and forced her to lay back. Once she was fully reclined he took the opportunity to feast upon her skin. He sent kisses down her body in a direct line from the base of her neck to her navel. Fran panted in response and Max couldn’t help but look up into her face. She was spectacular and he was going to cherish every inch of her. 

At a slow pace he massaged his hands down across her hips to her thighs and the top of her stocking. His fingers traced the pattern of the lace trimmed elastic band before inching the gossamer material down over the leg. Once it passed her foot he took her skin within his hands and slowly rubbed and the small narrow form. As he pushed slightly in the arch of her foot Fran moaned once more. Her hands moved over her body trying to track the waves of pleasure that coursed through her body. Max tickled his fingers back up her leg before repeating his torture on her other leg. 

When he was through with the remaining foot Fran sat up on her elbows, panting, her hands searched over her chest, abdomen and breasts. She teased and tugged as her stomach moved in rolling waves. She moved one hand behind her back and release the clasp of her bra. In one swift seductive motion she slid the bra down her arms and off her body and let it drop to the floor. 

The sight of her ripe breasts bared before him in the moonlight triggered a savage response within Max. He wanted to feel them with his hands, with his mouth, with teeth. He wanted them pressed against him as their bodies swerved across one another. 

He found he could no longer move slowly but was driven fast. A beastly urge surged through him and all he knew was that he needed Fran now. He tore down the zipper of his pants and bared himself. He was stiff and swollen and he needed to be with Fran.  
—

Fran lie there staring at Max, standing at the foot of the bed, naked, his need evident as his chest rose and fell with laboured breath. He was so sensual. Fran had never imagined she could be so hot. His aching removal of her clothes, his teasing lips and hands had sent her reeling and now here he was standing before her, her own sculpted hard man and she wanted him. 

She raised a brown and the corner of her mouth as she took in the sight of his engorged cock. She had seen him naked once before but he had been in the shower, relaxed not this unyielding hard shape. He was so impressive that she was at a loss for words, which never happened. Instead she held out her hands in an open embrace. 

Max seized upon this gesture and in an instant he was on the bed, between her legs pushing her back further, shifting them, so they could stretch out on the luxurious silken sheets of the bed. 

His hands ran up her side and sending spams along her skin. He took her lips and her breast simultaneously. Fran became incensed by the onslaught of attention. Her breast tingled with the contact of his rough hands on her, her lips pressed against his own, responding to his passion. He broke from the kiss and she nibbled at his bottom lip with her teeth. 

Max groaned and she felt his cock twitch against her leg. He rubbed himself along her hip and she shifted against him. 

His hand left her breast and travelled down to the hem of her red lace thong. Max sat back on his heels and brought his other hand over her abdomen to grip the other side of her waist. Fran lifted her hips and Max trailed the fabric down her thighs, over her legs and off over her toes. 

Fully naked and shaking with need the two of them sat a moment taking in the other. But in a flash the man other dreams was over top of her, his hands were everywhere searing hot trails all over her skin. She breathed deep dramatic sighs, unable to catch her breath in the rush of arousal. 

Fran reached her head up and sought his lips once more, needing the intimate contact, to feel the man who was lavishing her. The kiss was hot and quick, accentuated with heavy breathing and soft moans from both their lips. 

She felt his hand move downwards over her soft curls and to her most sensitive spot. A squeak escaped her lips and his fingers began to move and rub. His thumb danced circles around her clit as his other fingers played with her lips. 

“Oh, ah” she moaned. She moved her hips uncontrollably trying to push harder against his hand. “Ha.” she could not control the noises coming out of her mouth nor could she control the shivers that wracked her body. But just as she thought she was approaching the brink of pleasure his hands left her. They moved back up her body, pushing, he pressed on her arms and she moved them up, his fingers grazed her underarms and he followed them all the way up over her head and held her hands prisoner. She was locked in his grip and pressed beneath him. 

Who knew Max had such a primitive side to him. Fran was not sure where it had come from but she liked it. 

She felt his other hand move down, searching and she realized he was making himself ready, positioning at her entrance. In one swift hard thrust he was inside her. 

Fran gasped in shock and pleasure. It was overwhelming, after years of flirting, tension and verbal foreplay Max was here, inside her, throbbing and hard. She squirmed, wanting to move but restricted by his hands. She arched and sighed as he finally moved within her. 

“Oh Max!” 

He thrust once more and panted her name, “Fran, oh Fran.” 

He released her hands and braced himself on either side of her. Now angled higher he could drive more deeply into her. Fran let out a high pitched squeal as he pushed deeper and deeper. 

He was breathing hard and quick and Fran encouraged him, drove him onward. She ran her nails up his arms and over his back, clawing as he hit an intensely sensitive spot. He nibbled and licked at her skin as he thrust into her. She was intoxicated with stimulation. Her legs shifted and moved, she brought them up around him, wrapping herself fully around him. The shift in her legs tilted her sex and the feeling was so great she felt boneless. She was sustained only by the connection between them and the sensations of pleasure rippling over her body. 

She clawed and grabbed at him, As the sensations increase she wanted, well she wasn't sure she wanted, everything and nothing but she needed something, so she took hold of Max’s sides and pushed. She spun them over so that she was now sitting on top of him. The angle allowed her to fully survey his hard chest and his gorgeous face as she rode him. She moved her hips and set a sensual pace. 

His hands caressed her all over. He began holding, crushing her hips but slowly moved over her breasts, kneading and squeezing. 

Fran lifted up so that they were almost separated and then sank back down so that he impaled her. She revelled in the sight of his head falling back and his eyes squeezing tight from the intense pleasure. His hands stopped for a moment and she rose and fell again. This time his eyes snapped open and he shot up with feral determination, his face coming up to meet hers in a passionate kiss then dipping to her breasts. 

As he licked and nibbled her right breast she sensuously circled her hips, slowing the pace as to prolong their connection. She was enjoying his mouth on her too much to rush toward completion. 

He teased her nipple and brought to a peak. He flicked and circled it with his tongue before nipping it with his teeth and pulling. The contrast of soft and rough contact sent her reeling. 

“Oh Max!”

At the sound of his name he kissed her roughly and she giggled and squeaked as he turned them over once more. He was incensed and began thrusting hard and fast. She could feel his breath quicken with her own. They were panting, racing, running together, matched in pleasure and intensity. 

She took hold of him, hands braced behind his neck as she neared climax, she needed to anchor herself to him so that she wouldn't be lost to the pleasure. 

His hand came up and caressed her cheek, and he drew back the pace to glance into her eyes. 

“Fran,” he grit his teeth as she clenched her inner muscles around him. His face turned serious and Fran was suddenly overwhelmed, “Fran, I love you.” 

She took his mouth and sweetly kissed him. When she was almost out of breath she broke away and looked at him once more. 

“I love you too.” 

He smiled a boyish smile and she let out a single laugh before he began to move again. Slowly he dug into her rounding his hips and he pushed and thrust. They rode the wave of pleasure together as he pushed faster and faster and then without warning Fran became overwhelmed by pleasure and found her body shiver and quaked with release. She moaned and sighed and scream his name as she felt him tense and shake as he found his own release with her. She fell back and her mind went off far away as she gave into the powerful orgasm.

The weight of Maxwell was crushing her but she did not want him to move. She still desired the contact of their skin against one another. She drew patterns across the skin of his back as she listened to the rhythm of his breathing. 

Finally he shifted and moved off of her. As he did he pulled her close to him and cuddled her into the crook of right arm. Fran’s head rested on his chest and it rose and fell with his hard breathing. 

His skin was hot and he was still shivering slightly. Fran too was still recovering from the powerful sensations. She was numb and tingly. 

“I…can’t feel my legs.” Fran huffed then giggled. 

“Can you feel this?” Max asked as he hugged her close and ran his hands up and down her arm. 

Fran rubbed his chest and kissed his skin, “oh yah.” she replied, not sure if he mean the movement of his hands or the intense electricity between them but she enjoyed them both immensely. 

“Oh Maxwell.” She sighed. 

“Darling.” He kissed top of her head and she felt her eyelids growing heavy. He kissed her forehead, “Sweetheart.” Then he titled her face to meet his and kissed her. “Fran.” 

The last thing Fran remembered thinking before they both gave into exhaustion and sleep was how sweet her name sounded on his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have ideas for another story I would love to hear them!


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